Monday, September 2, 2013

"You Hit Like a Girl!"

Today, I have an excerpt from one of my upcoming novels, Sucker-Punched (working title) about an unlucky-in-love restaurant owner from St. Louis who falls in love with a pro wrestler....

Amelia

I
couldn't believe it.

That
is, I couldn't believe I was here, that Amy and I had flown all the
way to Los Angeles to attend a wrestling event at the Staples Center.
Who am I kidding? I still couldn't believe I was dating a pro
wrestler. No...that was something Amy would do, not me. I always
figured I'd end up with somebody more...stable. Like an accountant.
Or maybe a funeral director. Definitely not a guy who beats people up
for a living.

When
I imagined my ideal guy over the years, well, it wasn't Paulie. He
only had two of the traits on my wish list: a good heart and a great
sense of humor. But then, those two were the traits that mattered
most to me.

He'd
gotten us front-row seats. We had an unobstructed view of the ring.
This was the first time I'd actually attended one of his matches—and
I wasn't sure what to expect. Yes, I'd watched him wrestle on TV, but
I knew everything was scripted. They knew who would win the match
before they entered the ring. Still, wrestlers did get
injured, sometimes seriously. If this was all staged, how could that
happen? I had so many questions....

He'd
told me about his opponent. He said his feud with Mad Dog Mueller
wasn't just part of the act. He and the current World Champion really
did not get along. How had he put it? Oh, yes—"I hate the
dumbass, but tonight, I get to take the belt from him."

That
was why he wanted me to be there. He wanted me to celebrate his
victory with him. He wanted Amy and me to meet the rest of his
family—his parents, his sister, and his brother-in-law, the artist.
Meeting his family suggested he was ready to take our relationship to
the next level.

I
was well past ready. I loved him. I wanted to marry him.

I
took a deep breath as the program got underway. Maybe the World
Championship wasn't the only thing we'd be celebrating before the
night was over....

Paulie

Mad
Dog was in a foul mood. To say he wasn't crazy about the idea of
losing the championship—especially to me—had to be the
understatement of the century.

"I
may have to let you have it, but I don't have to make it easy for
you, Cantwell," he growled as he yanked open his locker. "You
just might be having your victory party in the hospital."

I
laughed, even though a part of me thought the douchebag might be
serious. "Just don't forget your trunks this time," I told
him. "I can take a lot of abuse, but the sight of your junk
flappin' around in the wake of me body slammin' you would be cruel
and unusual punishment."

Mad
Dog looked at me, eyes narrowed—and growled!

Mike
and J.J. came into the locker room. "Hey, Mad Dog—goin'
commando for the TV cameras tonight?" Mike asked as he dropped
his duffel on the bench.

J.J.
laughed, too. "Nobody saw anything last time," he said,
pulling off his shirt. "The camera crew would have had to have
at least one camera on zoom to catch anything that small—"

Before
he could finish, Mad Dog grabbed him and slammed him against the
wall, almost choking him. It took both Mike and me to pull him off
our kid brother. "Let him go, you stupid dick!" I yelled.

He
reluctantly released J.J. and turned his venom on me. "It would
be worth getting fired just to be able to keep you from getting
this." He snatched up the championship belt and shoved it in my
face for a minute, then pulled it away and headed for the exit.

I
tried to shrug it off. "I can handle Mad Dog," I assured
them. But I was wondering, too. It was no secret that Mad Dog and his
manager, a loudmouthed, brain-dead moron who looked more like Jabba
the Hut than a real human being, had vehemently protested the
relinquishment of the belt. They'd tell anybody who'd listen that Mad
Dog was getting screwed.

Personally,
I thought that would make Mad Dog happy. That's the closest to
screwed he's ever gonna get.

*****

Finally.
Time to head for the ring.

It
felt like an eternity, watching match after match on the monitors
while I waited for my turn. I wanted to get it all over with, take
the belt and get out of here. The championship would have meant more
to me if I could win it honestly, but that wasn't going to happen.
It's not how things are done in our business. But tonight wasn't
really about the championship. It was about Amelia and me. It was
about my parents and Robyn and Alex meeting her and her sister,
Amelia and Amy getting to know them....

I
poked around in my duffel until I found the box—the jeweler's box
with the ring inside. Amelia loved rubies, so I got her a ruby and
diamond ring—an engagement ring. I was going to pop the question
tonight—I'd ask her as soon as we were alone. I'd tell her I'd been
thinking of a short engagement and let her decide when and where we'd
get married.

I
just hoped I wouldn't be popping the question in the emergency room.

Amelia

I
looked toward the ramp as Paulie's entrance theme started to play.
AC-DC's Shoot to Thrill...Paulie was an Iron Man fan
and thought it the perfect entrance theme. He appeared at the top of
the ramp, wearing only black spandex trunks. “He looks pretty hot,”
Amy told me.

“He
looks even better without them,” I replied, unable to not smile.

He
did something called a crotch chop, then started down the ramp toward
the ring. As he climbed up on the ropes, he looked down at me and
winked.

I
waved and wondered if I'd be too much of a distraction for him. Maybe
I shouldn't have come.

"It's
like watching a gladiator about to go into battle for the hand of the
woman he loves," Amy said, seeing a romance to this spectacle
that completely escaped me. As much as I loved Paulie, to me this
seemed to me more a reality TV show—and like all reality shows,
there was little in the way of reality going on.

Then,
his opponent emerged to the sound of wild booing and Who Let the
Dogs Out? The guy who called himself Mad Dog looked like a rabid
dog—a big, incredibly ugly rabid dog. I almost expected him to hike
his leg and pee on the ring post to mark his territory.

"Is
he actually wearing a dog collar?" Amy asked, amazed.

I
hadn't noticed before Amy mentioned it, but he was—he was wearing a
thick leather collar with metal spikes. His manager was holding
something—he had his client on a leash!

“It's
hard to tell which one belongs on the leash,” Amy said. “It's a
clear case of the owner being uglier than the dog.”

“I
think it's a toss-up,” I disagreed.

"Hey,
Harvey!" Paulie called out. "When you gonna get that ugly
critter neutered?"

"I'll
neuter you!" Mad Dog shouted.

"And
maybe a flea dip, too," Paulie taunted. "It's hard to pin
him when he stinks like that!"

Mad
Dog jumped up onto the ring apron, then turned his attention to me.
"Say goodbye to your little friend and his little friend,"
he snarled. "He gets this belt over my dead body!"

The
bell was rung to start the match. It didn't get off to a good start
for Paulie. Mad Dog was tossing him around like a rag doll. "It's
like watching the T-Rex fighting the raptors in Jurassic Park,"
Amy commented.

I
might have laughed, had anyone but Paulie been in the role of raptor.
This was scripted? Paulie was being paid to have his bones broken? I
wanted to jump into that ring and take on the monster myself. "This
looks too real," I said in a low voice.

"Paulie's
going to become champion tonight," Amy reminded me. "They
have to make it look good."

It
didn't look good to me at all. Stop it! I screamed internally.
Leave him alone! The beating seemed to go on endlessly. “How's
he supposed to win the belt if this monster keeps beating the crap
out of him?” Amy wanted to know.

“I
don't know,” I said, concerned. Paulie had told me they had to make
it look good for the fans, but this beatdown was scaring me.

Just
when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they took the battle
outside the ring. They were fighting brutally on the ramp, hitting
each other with trash cans, metal folding chairs, ladders, anything
they could get their hands on. Then they disappeared backstage.

“This
can't be right,” I worried aloud. “They're supposed to fight out
here, where the fans can watch. Paulie was right. This guy's out of
control.”

“It's
got to be part of the act,” Amy disagreed.

“I
don't think so.” I kept my eyes on the entrance at the top of the
ramp, waiting for them to come back. Then, abruptly, an image
appeared on the jumbo screen above the entrance. Mad Dog was slamming
Paulie's head into the front of a truck. Paulie's head was bleeding.
“This isn't put on,” I gasped. “They're fighting for real.”

“I
don't think so.” Before Amy could do anything to stop me, I pushed
my way through the barricade separating the audience from the ring
area and ran up the ramp.

“Who's
that?” one of the commentators asked.

“I
think it's the Punisher's girlfriend,” his colleague said, also for
the entire arena to hear.

“The
Punisher has a girlfriend? And she's human?”

“She
kinda looks human.”

I
ignored them. I ran to the backstage area to put a stop to the
brutality. I found them near the production trucks. Mad Dog was still
slamming Paulie into the front end of the truck. I looked around for
something to use that might actually stop the brute. I found an empty
beer bottle, grabbed it—and smashed it over Mad Dog's head.

He
never knew what hit him. He fell to the floor in a heap.

“Mad
Dog Mueller just got taken out by...a girl!” one of the
commentators shouted.

Paulie
got to his feet and stared at me for a moment. “Amelia—what are
you doing back here?” he asked.

“I
couldn't let him keep beating you,” I said, dropping what was left
of the bottle.

“Do
you realize what you've done?” he asked.

“I
think I just saved your butt.”

He
nodded slowly. “And cost me the championship,” he said slowly.
“It's a DQ, a disqualification.”

I wouldn't want to meet Mad Dog in a dark alley, for sure! Made me wonder how much research you do for various books and stories... I know nothing about pro wrestling and this seemed incredibly detailed and, yes, full of wrestling world atmosphere!

Norma, I'm not into pro wrestling but this is funnier than %&^(! 'junk flappin' and 'I'll neuter you'. Heck it's like you're giving Hiaasen and Dave Barry some competition. Serious man-humor and I love it!